The Night I Dreamed You Died

The following is the last entry in the diary of Eliza Crow Feather:

Last night, I dreamed of your death. My soul screamed so loudly in despair that I awoke, shaken and filled with dread. Mr. Reaper will be paying me a visit again soon. Why must I be privy to his doings? Who decided that I should always know when a loved one will be taken by Death? It is a curse. Knowing that it will happen does nothing to ease my suffering when my dreams become reality.


I have two types of dreams about the people I know in real life. The first one is triggered by the voice that guides my spirit. My sleeping mind is desperately trying to get my waking mind to notice an important fact about someone. It is always the same, the person will either leave or needs to leave my life. This individual is harming me in some way that my spirit cannot withstand any longer.

The pattern remains the same. For two weeks straight I will dream about this person. The dreams will take place in this house of ever-changing proportions. It has taken me many years to work out where every room is located. My dreaming mind likes to throw in extra rooms that make zero sense, like a stainless steel kitchen that does not function.

The layout of my dream house does not matter, really. It’s organized chaos is intentional. The person I am dreaming about and I will visit the rooms I need to see  until I figure out why this person must exit my life. Once I finally wise up, the dreams stop and the person becomes part of my past. They will make guest appearances later on down the road. They serve as a marker so that I will pay attention to a message that I am sending myself.


Are my dreams prophetic in nature? Let me tell you about the second kind and you can decide for yourself. Actually, before I do that, let me tell you about my jade pendent. It ties into these dreams in a way that I find eerie and dreadful.

I had always been drawn to an old tree sculpture inlaid with jade that sat on my grandparents’ mantle. I learned it had been passed down through the generations to guard over the family and was over one hundred years old. Because of my interest in the object, my grandparents decided to have a smaller version of it crafted into a pendent that I could wear to guard over me.  I loved it so much that I never took it off, not even to shower, sleep or swim.


A few years later, I had to have some extensive tests done. I could not wear jewelry so I had to remove my necklace. Two weeks later, I started having intense dreams about my life being torn apart. They stopped the day I found out that my parents were divorcing. It was something that everyone could see coming yet it was rare in our community. Was this just a coincidence that my teenage mind picked up on? Maybe.

The next time I removed my necklace for yet another medical procedure, I started having dreams about an old man I visited with my grandmother. He was an old friend of the family’s that had outlived all of his children and his wife. I adored him from the start. I unfortunately never had the chance to see him again as life has a strange way of getting complicated when you least expect it. My dreams became so disturbing that my mother went to his home. When she arrived, the paramedics were carrying him out of the house under a white sheet. He had passed away in the night.


Years passed without incident until my mother and grandfather were in a car accident. The chain had broken on my necklace. Both survived the collision but my grandfather developed an inoperable brain aneurysm from the impact of his head onto the dash of the car. He died six months later. Before you ask, the answer is “yes”. I did dream of his death in full technicolor. Lucky me.

To date, I have had nightmares prior to every single death in my family. Here’s the crazy part, they all died suddenly. Not one of them exhibited any warning signs. One minute they were fine, the next dead. The dreams used to occur only after I had to remove my necklace or if it had broken. Now, they come before. This is most unsettling.


I have been having nightmares every night for the past several weeks. I know it is very silly to put any stalk into the events that I have described. Everything could be one big coincidence. Well, at this point it would be a grand series of coincidences. Do my current string of nightmares mean anything at all? I will describe a few to you. After all, whether any of this is plausible is up to you. I feel as if I am going mad though. Your insight will greatly help. Before I begin, it is important to not that I have never, ever dreamed about my parents or sibling before. Given what happens when I do dream about my loved ones, you can understand why I would be upset by the following.

When I visit the dream house of every-changing proportions, I rarely venture outside. If I opened the back door, I am greeted by a dilapidated wooden bridge that leads into a densely packed, tropical forest. Primal fear flows from the tips of my hair to the end of my toe nails. I never venture past the threshold of the door. Death awaits me, my death. If you go through the front door, you can either get thrown into a cave or some strange blending of a mall and carnival from hell. The last door leads into the garage.


In the dream, I keep going into the garage. Something keeps drawing me into this room. The garage door is open but I cannot see the front yard beyond its door frame. The walls are lined with shelves filled with car parts, nuts, bolts, and various tools. The lighting is bad leaving many dark corners. I can tell that this room is well used by someone, possibly my father. There is a small man size door that leads to the back yard. It is open. Bright sunshine blinds me when I look in that direction but I cannot see anything outside nor does the light penetrate the room I am in. I find this strange but dismiss it quickly.

I notice several things that even my dreaming mind panics about. I can see every single one of my family members clearly. This is very disturbing to me. They are only background noise for now. The door calls to me. Its song is so strong that I cannot resist and step out into the bright sunlight.

The backyard is separated from the neighboring one by a chain link fence. Beyond our yards there is a seemingly unending field filled with scrub bush and boulders that jut out of the ground. A path cuts through the field winding to the left, where I can see mountains in the far distance. I hear my best friend’s little girl playing in the yard next door.

The little angel calls my name. I walk to the fence where she talk to me with sheer delight on her adorable face. My best friend joins us. Her eyes are filled with joy. We share a tender moment of pure bliss. I suddenly feel all of the love that only true friends enjoy. I wish I could make you feel the light and happiness with me. Time seemed to stand still as it only can in dreams.


The moment does end. My sister’s little one comes outside to play. My heart leaps with absolute love. He is my world as I cannot have children of my own. Again, the moment dies as I realize that I can see and hear him much too clearly. Before my heart can break and my soul can scream, a familiar voice commands my attention, a man I dated in what seems like another life.

For some reason, he talks me into running away to the mountains. I turn and watch my family having tender moments together. My best friend is doing the same thing with her daughter. I realize that none of them want or need me around. Every single one of them would be happy without me. With this in mind, I take my old flame’s hand and run away, leaving everyone behind without a solitary word of good bye.

Halfway up the treacherous path, I begin to falter. How could I leave them all behind? I panic and turn to run back with tears streaming down my face. I finally reach my family and scoop up my nephew into my arms. Fear of losing everyone I love and care about floods my veins faster than any adrenaline could.

This is when my nightmare takes a violent turn. It is enough to wake me. As my loved ones look on without interest, my nephew is taken from me before they all turn around, leaving me to my fate. I brought it upon myself, didn’t I? Judging how I am ripped apart and left for dead, I would have to answer, “yes” without hesitation.


This dream has stuck with me for days now. I would never abandon my nephew. The thought has never crossed my mind. I have been troubled deeply by this dream. My family would never turn their backs on me either. When you take into consideration every dream I have ever had prior to this one, I can tell you some important facts as to what it signifies.

Like all dreams, mine are a series of symbols embedded in truths. Unlike your dreams, mine also contain vital knowledge from the beyond. I have left this decision ultimately up to you but I cannot discount this as mere coincidence. Let me bring you to the dream that led me to write you in the first place.

My dream started out with a bang. For some unknown reason, I had injured my foot by kicking a pile of metal hangers. A huge hunk of metal broke off and lodged itself into my flesh. It bled more than was possible. My entire family took me to the hospital. All was well right? I wish that were true. I was led through unending hallways by various family members. There was not a wheelchair for me. I had to hobble from place to place. My foot swelled and bled profusely. Everyone acted as if I only had a minor paper cut even though gallons of blood flowed onto the floor beneath me with each step.

I was upset by their lack of empathy, but I dismissed it and went with the flow. The hospital dream dissolved and flowed into the house of unending proportions. I was one again in that dusty, well used garage. My foot was still injured. It was then that I realized that it really was a blend of my childhood garage and my neighbor’s work shed. I found this curious. I felt like a part of me knew what was coming and dreaded allowing the events to unfold.

Unfold they did, just the same. As I am sitting on the back porch steps, you, my soul mate join me. It is strange how in dreams you just know everything about he characters who populate them. You smile at me. Oh how your smile lights up my world. The only person who can top your smile is my nephew. You hold my hand and tell me how much you truly love me. The look in your eyes leaves me with zero doubts that you mean every single word. You pull me in for a kiss, our lips barely touch before it blossoms into one that takes my breath away. You pull away reluctantly and give me the most heartbreaking of sad smiles before you put a gun to your head and blow your brains out.

Before I can register the gore that covers me, your disfigured face morph into my ex-husband’s. His smile chills my soul. He continues with the conversation as if you never existed. He melts away. Everything melts away and I am left in darkness.

The darkness fades away and I am standing in the garage once more with my family. From the distorted blackness that is my front yard, a shot rings out, followed by another. My mother and nephew collapse to the ground. I jump to try to save them when three, four, five bullets tear through my body. As I lie dying on the floor, my sister and father scoop up the fallen ones, leaving me to die where I had fallen.


In the past, I would dream about only one person at a time. I could see them as clearly as I could if I were awake. In normal dreams, faces are always blurred or seen out of the corner of my eye. I would see how they died, alone. These two dreams may not seem like a bad omen to you. If I looked at them logically, then I would say that I felt trapped in my life. I would say that I longed to leave it all behind me. It makes sense, right?

The only problem with this assessment is that I know it to be false. My life is far from perfect. I know this and fully accept the fact. I fight and scrape for everything that I have with no regrets. Every day is a victory. The problem is that I know these two examples mean death for the people that I love. Heartache is in the future. Since I am the only one who keeps dying I have to wonder about this. Am I the one who dies this time? It would explain why my family is finally making an appearance in my dreams.

I cannot help but to also wonder when my necklace will break. It will let me know when the events are about to unfold. The Reaper is whispering into my dreaming brain through my spirit. I am but an unwilling passenger on this ride. Is it my time? I am beginning to think so. I hope this time I am wrong. For once, please let me be wrong. I am so very tired of always being right. So here, I wait for death or for life. I am off to dream, for better or for worse.

Please, let it be for the better.

The entry stops here. The diary was left open to this page. All of the previous pages were filled with the details of Eliza Crow Feather’s dreams. It is curious to note two things. First, almost every entry was written to her  husband of twenty years who died from a stray bullet while sitting on the back porch with her. Her first dream entry that started two weeks prior described this very detail. Second, she herself died after writing the final entry above. Were her dreams really visions of the future? I guess, that answer, is ultimately up to you.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

Blog at

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: